


Family Matters

by junko



Series: Curse of the Nue [8]
Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-18
Updated: 2012-07-18
Packaged: 2017-11-10 06:08:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/463065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junko/pseuds/junko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Desperate to save Rukia from execution, Byakuya turns to the one place he fears the most... his family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Family Matters

Byakuya sipped his tea and watched Renji eat. Renji Abarai was a man who attacked everything with all that he had--even breakfast. It seemed like a profound waste of energy to Byakuya, yet it was strangely compelling--or perhaps, more accurately, distracting.

The sun was already crossing the estate’s lake. Through the open windows, Byakuya could see light reflecting on its smooth surface. The day was already half gone, and he’d done nothing.

_Well_ , he thought with a small, private smile, _not exactly nothing, just nothing decent or useful._

However, it was nothing that would help free Rukia, he reminded himself. In the lake, a flotilla of snow geese made their lazy way through the shallows, a noisy row of goslings flanked by the protective mating pair. Watching them, Byakuya was stabbed by guilt. What kind of older brother was he? Deep shame rumbled through his stomach at the idea that he’d allowed himself to be so sidetracked by his own base pleasure when he should be thinking of his sister.

What was it about this man sitting across from him on the bed, hunched over his food as though he half-expected it to try to escape, and who seemed incapable of eating without making any number of uncouth and yet vaguely erotic noises?

His lieutenant was impossible not to notice, that much was certain. Even though Renji’s hair was all stuck up in that horrible topknot, Byakuya’s eyes were drawn to that color—what shade was it even? Some kind of red, clearly, but something both deeply rich and wildly garish; a color, Byakuya was sure, which never existed in nature before it somehow grew out of this man.

And then there were all those tattoos… as if the body that went with them wasn’t distracting enough. Byakuya admired the way powerful muscles of forearm jumped with every small movement as Renji shoveled copious amounts of food into his mouth.

Oh, and if Byakuya looked at that mouth too long… his mind would go to very bad places. Very preoccupied and confusing places he could not afford to be diverted to. Not any more today at least and probably best not until Rukia was free. Byakuya cleared his throat. “If you’re quite finished, we have work to do.”

Setting the chopsticks down, Renji stretched. Long, lean and so… massive, he extended his arms until shoulders and back popped. “Right,” he said, getting up with more creaks and cracks. “I’ll take care of this,” he said, indicating the tray that held the decimated remains of breakfast, “and meet you back at the Division.”

Byakuya nodded in acknowledgement, his eyes tracking the stripes on Renji’s calves as he picked up the rest of his clothes along with the tray.

Yes, it was good Renji was leaving. Everything about him was far too distracting.

#

 

Once his lieutenant had dressed and lumbered out, Byakuya rang for the steward. Byakuya was gathering up things to take to the sentō when a polite knock came at the door. “Come,” Byakuya said, while continuing his search for a decent hairbrush. “I need you to arrange things with my auntie Masami ’s household. We intend to invite her to tea this afternoon. Don’t let them drag their feet or insist on a large entourage. It must be this afternoon and it must be as private as possible, do you understand?”

“Yes, of course, my lord,” the steward said, handing Byakuya the very brush he’d been searching for. How did the servants always know the contents of his own dresser better than he did himself?

“Clear the hot springs for me,” Byakuya said, standing up. “And make sure the cook remembers all of Masa’s favorites. Oh, and purchase something—some small gift she’s sure to enjoy, a hair bobble or similar. Wrap it nicely. She loves that sort of detail.”

“It will be as you say, my lord.”

#

 

Of course the Lady Masami Kuchiki arrived with a bevy of girls, there were always twittering, fluttering women surrounding Byakuya’s aunt. At least the steward had thought to announce each one, so Byakuya could have some hope of remembering their names, titles, and connections.

The Lady Kuchiki herself swept in with a swirl of golden silk, brocaded with white dancing cranes and blood red chrysanthemum blossoms. The obi was a burnished coppery color and matched the amber jewelry dripping from her silver-white hair. Byakuya dipped his head slightly and took the hand she offered. “My lady aunt,” he said.

“Someday, Byakuya-chan, I do so dearly hope you’ll learn proper manners. I blame the untimely death of your mother, and being raised in the rough, uncultured company of military men. Your father and grandfather neglected to teach you even the simplest of things. Do you have any idea how difficult it was for me to arrange this visit on such short notice?”

Already Byakuya felt a headache blooming behind his eyes. “A thousand pardons for the inconvenience, lady. I hope that once I’ve had a chance to explain, you’ll appreciate my need for expedience.”

Of course, there was no rushing tea. Everyone had to be settled, served. Far too many annoying, innocuous pleasantries had to be exchanged. Friends and family had to be politely inquired after. The girls needed to be properly admired, flattered.

And then there were all the nit-picks to be endured.

“You could, once, wear something other than that dreadful uniform,” aunt Masami sighed. “It doesn’t really suit your complexion, dear.”

“I’ll take your concern up with the captain-commander at the next captain’s meeting, shall I?” Byakuya said, unable to keep the sarcasm from his tone. “Perhaps he’ll take pity on us ‘winters’ and redesign the haori accordingly.”

“At least you’re allowed the kenseikan,” she said, ignoring his jibe.

“Yes, at _least_ ,” he agreed dryly, wondering what on earth more she’d wish for--an actual crown, perhaps? The kenseikan were already too much in Byakuya’s mind. If they didn’t function to keep the hair from his eyes, he’d consider leaving the heirloom at the estate. Certainly they showed his rank, but they were hardly proper battle gear.

The lady Kuchiki was arching an eyebrow at him, clearly disapproving. “So then, you might as well get to it. What’s this poor excuse of a social function _really_ for? You never invite me to the estate unless you want something, child. What is it?”

Byakuya grit his teeth, knowing exactly how she was going to react. “I need a favor.”

“Oh really?” she purred. “Another one… and so soon. Is it going to be as onerous as the last two? Have you found another stray in need of adoption? Perhaps you’d like to make that brutish lieutenant of yours a Kuchiki as well? Or maybe the family should just extend an open invitation to all of mutts rutting around Inuzuri this time?”

Byakuya couldn’t keep his hands from curling into tight fists on his knees. His eyes snapped up hotly. This wasn’t going to be easy. He’d have to find a way to ignore the insults, the cruel words that cut deep into his heart’s love, his pride and joy. “You still have contacts with the royal family, don’t you?”

“Of course,” the lady Kuchiki sniffed. “And you would, too, if you consented to entertain the proposition of marriage.”

He ignored her; she was forever obsessing on that particular subject. “I need to circumvent the Council of Forty-Six. A royal pardon could stay Rukia’s execution order.”

“You expect me to use up my favors with the Spirit King for that bitch?”

Byakuya’s entire body trembled with the effort to keep from slapping his aunt’s face. He had to drop his gaze into his lap to keep from showing her how much she’d hurt him. A deep breath kept his voice steady. “Regardless of your opinion of her, Rukia is my sister and a Kuchiki.”

“Sister?!” Aunt Masami’s normally controlled voice was almost a shriek, “I know exactly _what_ she is, boy-- _who_ she replaces. It’s no wonder you won’t consider marriage when you keep that clone-copy so close to your side. It’s disgusting what you’ve done, and we were fools to pander to your depravity.”

Byakuya shot to his feet, sending the tea service crashing to the floor. “Enough!’ Despite his best efforts, reistsu swirled around his feet. The attending girls cried out from the sudden, sharp increase of pressure. He had to take a long moment to compose himself. Finally, he turned away. “I trust you can find your way out, my lady aunt. If not, an escort will be provided.”

#

 

“I suppose that went as well as could be expected, my lord,” the steward said, as he stooped to clean up the various items Byakuya had flung around the sitting room in an uncustomary display of pent up rage. He hadn’t broken so many antiques since he was fifteen. At least he’d had the sense to smash the particularly ugly ones.

Byakuya pressed a cold compress to his aching head, as he lounged on the bench. “Do we have any other contacts with the royal family?”

“I’m afraid Lady Kuchiki’s assessment may be correct, my lord. If you had at least returned a single letter to any one of your numerous admirers at court, you might have had a more direct route.”

“I suppose I could attempt a personal appeal,” he sighed.

“Yes, from what I understand, your attendance at the Hanami this year went over very well. Apparently you deigned to appear in public several times, my lord, which was appreciated by numerous families. There was only that bit of awkwardness with your choice of… companions.”

Always it came down to that. Gods, how he hated all the politics of class. He refused to regret bringing Renji to the Cherry Blossom Festival, however. It would have been intolerable without him.

“Very well,” he said. “See what you can do to get me an Imperial audience.”

#

 

Byakuya had hoped to run into Renji during the day, but they seemed to be on opposing schedules. He knew his lieutenant had been in the office, however, by the neatly stacked paperwork ready for his mark. Despite what others might guess given outward appearances, Renji was by far the most competent adjutant Byakuya had ever had. So much better than that ridiculously un-ambitious and unmotivated Ginjirō Shirogane, who cared so much more for outside obligations than soldiering.

Not that Byakuya could blame Ginjirō for putting his duty to his family first. It was the only reason Byakuya had let him muster out respectably, insisting there be no black mark on his record. Byakuya certainly wasn’t going to allow his former lieutenant to be treated like a deserter and hauled off to that horrible place that the Second maintained just because he had the burden of a daughter to care for on his own.

Even so, Ginjirō had been a horrible adjutant. His mind was never on his work. Every bit of paperwork seemed to wait on doodles of sunglasses designs, for gods’ sake. And, while his daughter was honestly quite charming, Byakuya did not need to spend his days bombarded with pictures and stories of the minutia her daily activities. It had been a relief when Ginjirō had finally asked for permission to retire from service.

Having covered so long for Ginjirō, Byakuya was grateful how quickly Renji took over managing the Division’s affairs. It had been Byakuya’s one true hesitation with agreeing to Renji’s appointment. He’d had deep concerns that a Sixth Seat, especially one from the Eleventh, could ever hope to understand the complex, and, honestly tedious, amount of work that went in to keeping a Division running. But, from the first day, Renji took to the job like he was born to it. Of all the skills he brought to the Sixth, this one was the most welcome and… impressive.

Byakuya had expected Renji to be a fine fighter. There was no way he could have advanced even as far has he had among the Eleventh if he couldn’t hold his own in a battle. Despite his rough exterior, people seemed to like him and, apparently, his kind-hearted generousity was well-known among the residents of the Seireitei, as Renji had amassed far more than the necessary recommendations and character references. That the morale of the Sixth had improved under his leadership was not entirely surprising, given his boisterous, egalitarian personality.

The one thing Byakuya had not anticipated was Renji’s willingness to tackle the sometimes migraine-inducing bureaucracy of the Gotei 13 with same unwavering passion as he did everything else. It had only taken a matter of days and a few questions about the Sixth’s particular preferences before Byakuya’s division was in order in a way it had not been in decades. Nothing was ever overdue or even misfiled. It was, in point of fact, truly astonishing.

Renji even went to great lengths to make sure things were done the way Byakuya liked them. This paperwork, for example. Always exactly where Bylakuya wanted to find it, just to the right of the ink well, with the most important pieces on top.

His lieutenant was so easy to work with that Byakuya often felt it was a shame that Renji was so nakedly ambitious. He would lose him soon enough to any open captaincy. There was no doubt that it was just a matter of time. The man never stopped training, pushing, grasping…. And, as close as he was to that strangely talkative zanpaktō of his, bankai could not be far from his reach.

Byakuya frowned as he came to the last form that needed his attention. It was an official request for a minder from the Fourth to look after Rukia’s care in the guardhouse. Of course Renji would have thought to take good care of her. Still, Byakuya hesitated. No other prisoners got such special treatment. Would it be seen as nepotism or favoritism?

_It might be the only thing I can do for her in the end; make her last days comfortable. _

With that thought, Byakuya signed it with a flourish and left the papers in Renji’s in-box.

#

 

The steward cringed as he handed over the note from the Imperial palace that evening after diner. “I’m terribly sorry, my lord. You’ve been refused.”

Byakuya took the paper and scanned the words, barely registering them. His brows knitted together furiously. “What? Am I not the _head_ of one of the four great noble families? How can I be refused audience?”

The steward cleared his throat and bowed deeply. “I suspect there’s still the matter of your request to elevate a commoner to the status of noble.”

“That was a half a century ago, and she was my wife! I couldn’t have her bowing to everyone, including my staff, in the privacy of our own home.”

“Understandable, my lord,” the steward said, his head still nearly pressing to his knees. “However, it’s the sort of thing that ruffles feathers.”

“How can they still hold that against me? They only grated it after she died.” Byakuya let out a sigh, and allowed himself the pleasure of crumpling the royal seal in his fist. Quietly, he said: “Damn them all.”

“Indeed, my lord.”

Byakuya stood up and thrust the wad of paper at his steward. “I’m going out. I need… there are things I need to attend to back at the Division.”

“Ah, yes, of course,” the steward said knowingly. “Your quarters at the Sixth have been…uh, refurnished, should you wish to spend the evening there, my lord.”

Byakuya stared at the steward for a long moment, trying to assess just how much he’d guessed about his relationship with Renji. He decided he didn’t want to know. He left without further response.

**Author's Note:**

> Ocassionally, my fandom for "Downton Abbey" makes strange appearances in my Bleach fic. The very last scene was partly inspired by that as well as all the hoopla surrounding the fact that Kate Middleton is a "commoner" and is expected to bow to various royals IN HER OWN HOUSE if her husband, the prince, is not present. I can only imagine Hisana had to put up with much worse, since she was even more than "common," given that she, like Rukia and Renji, came from the 78th district. Given that there are only 80, there's a LOT of people, even some of the servants in Byakuya's household, who come from better places, who officially "outranked" her.
> 
> Alternately, I never describe the house steward or name him on purpose. I don't think Byakuya has a clue what he looks like. 
> 
> Everything I say about Byakuya's former lieutenant I inferred from reading the Bleach Wiki -- or I made it up.


End file.
